


Frustration in Paradise

by lightning_in_a_bottle



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, UST, post 9x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightning_in_a_bottle/pseuds/lightning_in_a_bottle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared & Misha invite Jensen to watch Supernatural 9x03 with them as it airs. But fuck if that's not a terrible idea. How is Jensen supposed to watch those shirtless Misha scenes without giving himself away? Without acknowledging a truth he's buried so deeply that he can hardly even admit it to himself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frustration in Paradise

He hung up the phone with a sigh.

Damn it. What was he supposed to do now? He’d live-watched episodes at Jared’s plenty of times before. What possible excuse could he give?

He stuffed his phone in his pocket and felt an overwhelming urge to run away. Or to punch something. 

God damn it. Filming that scene had been hard enough. Now he had to watch it?

He closed his eyes and sighed again. He saw Misha tied to that chair, his shirt ripped open, his legs spread wide. Sure his chest and face were covered in makeup, but damn.

It’d been filmed weeks ago. Weeks. But the image had etched itself into his brain, and Jensen really did not want to see it again on a TV screen. In the same room as Jared. And Misha.

Nope.

So not gonna happen.

He opened his eyes and wondered what he could say. He’d been non-committal to Jared on the phone, suggesting that maybe he’d take the night to rest. That happened a lot these days. 

Being a new dad and effectively living a thousand miles from your wife and baby? Sucked. Not only did he miss his girls, but it meant a lot more travel -- a lot of flights and drivers and living out of suitcases.

Yet Danneel was insistent. She was NOT moving to a frosty, chilly place full of strangers when her friends and support system were at home in sunny L.A. He’d just have to buck up.

Buck up and live with the exhaustion. 

It was perfectly reasonable for him to turn down the invitation.

He heard the sound of birds chirping and looked down at his phone.

_MISHA  
Are you coming?_

Fuck. 

He texted back.

_JENSEN  
Thinking about staying out of this one. Need a night to chill._

Some moments later, birds chirped again.

_MISHA  
Lame. Jared’s flying in as I type, and he’s not making excuses._

Damn it.

What excuse could he possibly make? It was their first episode with a scene together in the season. They always watched those together.

The only difference this time was that Misha’d be shirtless, exposed. He’d be kissing some woman. He’d have his heart broken by Dean. Fuck that shit.

_JENSEN  
Not excuses. Just tired._

_MISHA  
Whatever. I’m pretty sure you’re just uncomfortable having thousands of fan girls faint over seeing my perfect abs._

_JENSEN  
More likely, they’ll all be gagging in disgust._

_MISHA  
Exactly. It’s far too sexy for network TV. It’s pornography!_

_JENSEN  
Not what I meant._

_MISHA  
You’re brilliant. I’ll get them to boycott the episode, like you._

_JENSEN  
I’m not boycotting the episode. Just don’t feel social._

Minutes passed without a response from Misha, and Jensen started to feel relieved. Maybe he really could wiggle his way out of this without raising too much suspicion.

What he needed was something to take his mind off this. He tried sitting down with a book, but his eyes kept glossing over. He’d go shoot some hoops. Get physical. Go zen.

He changed his clothes, laced up his shoes, strung his gym bag across his shoulders, and grabbed his keys. The doorbell rang.

He wasn’t expecting anybody.

He glanced through the peephole and saw a pair of obscenely blue eyes staring back at him. Damn. He opened the door.

“If you’re so tired, why are you headed out to the gym?” Misha said by way of greeting.

Jensen swung the door further open and stepped back, letting Misha in.

“I was headed out to shoot some hoops. Clear my head. You know,” he trailed off.

Misha walked into the living room and leaned against the back of the couch, crossing his legs in front of him at the ankles.

“Besides, what are you doing here?” Jensen asked.

Misha locked gazes with him, and damn if he suddenly forgot to breathe under the weight of those electric eyes. 

“Since when is hanging out with Jared or me ‘being social’? It’s your number one way to unwind.” Misha argued.

Jensen looked away. “I just don’t feel like being around people right now.” He said to Misha’s chest.

“So you’re going to the gym, where you’ll be surrounded by people?”

Jensen looked up again. Misha’s eyes were a little challenging, but still friendly.

“Okay. You got me. I just really don’t want to watch that episode. Not tonight.” As he spoke the words, Misha’s expression softened.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Damn it. Why did Misha always have to look at him like that? Like he was trying to see straight into his soul?

“No, not really.” He answered.

Misha gave him a crooked smile, uncrossed his legs, and stepped away from the couch. “Look,” he said, “You know if there’s anything you want to talk about -- problems with Danni or fatherhood or whatever -- I’m here.”

Jensen knew it was true. That was half the problem. Misha was a damn good friend. “Yeah, I know.”

“You sure there’s nothing I need to know about? I can’t promise any sage advice, but I can promise lots of sarcastic, witty banter.”

Jensen smiled and dipped his head. He knew that was true, too.

“No, I’m good.” He replied.

“I doubt that, considering that you’d rather be surrounded by a room full of sweaty, grunting strangers than by your best friends.”

Jensen gave Misha a wry smile, put his gym bag down and tossed his keys onto the counter. He opened the fridge and grabbed a two bottles of water, giving one to Misha. 

After they’d both taken a few thirst-quenching swallows, Misha’s eyes grew wide.

“I think I’m onto something,” Misha said with a wicked grin. “It’s the sweaty, grunting strangers thing, isn’t it? You’re feeling a lot of unresolved sexual frustration and need to get physical to get some release!”

Jensen nearly choked on his water. “No!” he said quickly. “No, that’s not it.”

Misha stepped closer, invading Jensen’s personal space and eyeing him as if through a microscope. 

“Oh I’m definitely on to something,” he whispered conspiratorially. “Your pupils are dilated, but your speech patterns are normal. So, you’re not high, just horny.”

Jensen’s heart stuttered briefly before trying to leap out of his chest. Misha needed to step back.

“No!” he answered with vehemence while shifting on his feet to try to hide his half-hard dick.

Misha took a step back and kept examining Jensen. “Not getting enough sex with the wife? Trust me, I know how that goes. Post-birth sex drives in females are notoriously pitiful.”

Jensen let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Why not let him believe what he wanted to believe? It wasn’t exactly lying.

“But if that’s the case, why not just go jack off?” Misha continued his train of thought. “Why go to the gym? It must be some other kind of frustration.”

Jensen took a long swig of his bottle and finished downing it. He turned around to toss it into the trash and discreetly adjusted his gym shorts.

“You’re not helping, Jensen.”

“Why should I? You’re doing so well on your own, Sherlock.”

“Oh you’re oozing frustration!” Misha prodded gleefully, a thoughtful look glued to his face. “And you’re horny.” He continued.

Something flitted across his face, an unreadable expression that looked like hopeful disbelief.

“Jensen?” Misha asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do YOU know why you don’t want to watch the episode with us tonight?”

Of course he did. The reason was standing right in front of him. He gave Misha an exasperated look.

“Why the fuck do you care, man? Can’t we just drop it? Do I need to have a reason?”

Damn it. Why did Misha have to turn this into a big fucking deal? Why couldn’t he have just accepted that Jensen was tired and moved on? Why did he have to show up at his door like a nosy girlfriend?

Misha sighed.

“Look,” he said. “I’m sorry if I’m over concerned. I just know that this isn’t like you to ditch Jared & I during a live-watch, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” he said hurriedly.

Misha eyed him disbelievingly. “If you say so.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned around, taking his half-empty water bottle with him as he sat on the couch.

“So,” he said, looking at Jensen over his shoulder, “I’ve got another hour to kill before Jared’s expecting me. Wanna keep me company? Or are you dead set on the gym?”

Jensen glanced at his gym bag. It meant time alone in a crowd of people, the repetitive squeaks of shoes moving across the court, the serene swishing of ball after ball going into the basket, the smell of sweat, the focused attention on something, anything, other than Misha.

A shirtless Misha strapped to a chair looking both vulnerable and incredibly hot.

There. He’d allowed his brain to think it. The unthinkable thought that had been plaguing him for weeks.

He’d always flirted with Misha. That’s just how Misha rolls. And it’s fun. But this? This was something different and unsettling.

“Wow.” Misha laughed. “I didn’t realize it’d be such a hard question to answer.” He stood up. “I’m gonna go.”

A sudden panic seized Jensen. “No!” He blurted.

Misha stopped on his way to the trashcan and looked up, questioningly.

“Don’t go. Let’s chill.”

“No, no. I realize I came here unannounced, and at a time when you clearly expressed your desire to be alone.” He tossed his bottle in the trash, then headed towards Jensen on his way to the door.

“No. It’s alright, man.” Jensen said, shaking his head.

Misha took another couple steps and opened his arms wide for a goodbye hug. “Nah. I think I’m headed out. You need the space.” His arms clamped around Jensen’s shoulders, patting him on the back twice. 

Jensen leaned into the hug and held tight, closing his eyes. He inhaled the scent of Misha and decided to not let go. Just for a moment. When Misha began pulling back, Jensen gripped him more tightly.

“You’re a good friend, Mish.” He said gruffly. He took another breath full of Misha’s scent, then clapped the man on the back and began pulling out of the hug.

“So are you,” Misha said with a genuine smile, stepping out of Jensen’s embrace.

He walked toward the door and opened it. “See you later,” he offered before stepping out. 

“Bye,” Jensen said, closing the door. As he locked it behind Misha, he rested his forehead against the cool steel and took a deep breath.

He was so fucked.


End file.
